False Pretense
by GhostofaGoodThing
Summary: Two superstars compete for the love of one Diva due to a bet. Things don’t go as planned. While one succeeds in making her fall for him, the other falls for her.


**Title: **False Pretense

**Author:** Ghost of a Good Thing

**Rating:**PG-13

**Summary: **Two superstars compete for the love of one Diva due to a bet. Things don't go as planned. While one succeeds in making her fall for him, the other falls for her.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing that you recognize nor do I claim to own anything you recognize. Don't sue, because the most you would get would be my dog and he bites.

**Author's Note: **Review. If you want a happy author than review and leave compliments and constructive criticism, please. If you do so, I will share my Oreos with you…and that, my friends, is something.

"You have absolutely _no_ game, man!" Randy Orton laughed; clapping John Cena on the back as he reentered the small group of superstars huddled in the back of the bar.

John looked up from his shirt, which was now stained and soaked with Cosmopolitan, in disbelief. "What?"

Randy leaned in and spoke slowly, "No…game."

"Whatever, I can get a girl before you so…" John challenged with a smirk, causing the rest of the group to erupt into a prolonged 'oh'.

Randy Orton, competitive by nature and only more so when the challenge came from one of his friends, returned the smirk. "That a bet?"

"Only if you're up to getting your ass beat."

"You're on."

John threw his shirt, still damp from the Cosmopolitan, onto the floor and lied down on his bed. The bed besides his creaked as his roommate sat up.

"So, about that bet…" Randy questioned, placing his feet on the floor and looking all too eager. "What are the grounds and who is the girl?"

John groaned, sitting up and thinking. What would embarrass Randy Orton? He smiled. "If I win, you have to go into the ring while Vince is talking and profess your undying love for him, kiss him, and run."

Randy gapped. "A-alright…but if I win, you have to run through the hotel naked with the women's title belt around your waste free styling at the top of your lungs."

It was John's turn to gape. "…o-okay."

"Now the girl," Randy bit his lip, pondering for a second. "It has to be someone hot and from our roster, and they have to be a challenge…"

"So that takes Candice and Maria off the list," John laughed.

"Torrie?"

"No, with the divorce and all…too much emotional baggage…which would make her easy and clingy. Plus, I think Carly has got his eye on her." John laughed, "Lisa?"

"No way. I nearly got tied up in that shit once, literally. She carries around chains and shit." Randy shuddered at the thought, rubbing his back at the memory and sending John into hysterics.

"Then that leaves…"

"Mickie James." They said in unison. John laughed at the idea, stopping when Randy didn't join in.

"She's perfect." Randy said seriously. "She's cute, from our roster and has managed not to sleep with anyone on the roster—a challenge!"

"But dude, she hates you," John grinned, realization dawning on him, "alright! Mickie James it is."

"Wait, I missed something! What's that smile for?" Eyebrows lowered in confusion, Randy stood up and point a threatening finger at his friend.

John shrugged, "She hates you, thinks you're an 'egotistical, sexually driven, ass'—those were her exact words. She has no beef with me."

Randy groaned inwardly, flopping back down onto his bed and shrugging, "I like a challenge. Jillian Hall took almost a month…and it was all worth it."

"How long do we have to get her into bed?"

"Bed? No one said anything about bed." Randy smirked and John's face fell.

"Dude, if its more than just physical…we're getting into emotional shit now? No, no way." Shaking his head, John disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water following seconds later.

"Oh, come on! All you have to do is get her to say one simple 'I love you' and you win. Then you can break it off." Randy stood and walked over to the bathroom, leaning against the door frame.

Sighing, John turned away from the sink. "Fine, but…if that's how we win…you can't sleep with her."

"What?"

"You can't sleep with her for the duration of this sick game. If you do…then you have to…sing out your profession of love and try and get some tongue action in on the kiss. Got it?"

"Man…your pushing it…"

"You want to do this or not?"

Groaning, Randy fell back onto John's bed and clapped his hands onto his face, voice coming out in a muffled grunt.

"Deal."


End file.
